I miss Don pretty much all of the time. It’s a given. I live in a constant state of lonesomeness. Even when we’re fighting (which isn’t really fighting, so much as pushing one another away because of the “complicated” issues I blogged about in my previous posts).

But normally, I don’t really miss having him here or me being there, one way or the other.

I sent him a card a while ago…one from the new line that Hallmark put out with famous quotes on the front. I love that particular line of cards because I love words so much and really enjoy a good quote, no matter the source. Anyway, the card had a line from the movie, “Almost Famous”. It said, “I’m never as good as when I’m with you” (you’ll forgive me if that’s not spot on, okay? But it was something along those lines). On the inside of the card, Hallmark had added… “Wish you were here. Or I was there. Whichever.” And that card, that day in the card store, that moment I saw it, was perfect.

And it’s usually true.

Except for tonight.

Tonight I’m missing Don, as usual, but I’m also missing visiting him.

I miss his apartment. The smell of it. The bathroom in a weird spot (especially for someone who has a disability and probably doesn’t need any extra obstacles when they have to go to the toilet in the middle of the night, but he assures me that he’s used to it). The counter cluttered with stuff that always seem to end up holding everything I’ll need on a day to day basis…vitamins, purse, sunglasses, insurance cards…plus whatever magazines or book I’ve brought along with me for reading on the plane and in the airports. The super long coffee table that his Dad built. The plastic ice cube thingies we found at Target. The almost bare fridge. The little coffee maker.

And his bedroom. The clock that always reads the wrong time and fucks me up no matter how many times I remind myself that it’s hours and hours ahead. The pictures of me in the frame of the Marilyn Monroe print. The pictures of his niece in the same frame. The nerdy collection of hats on the back of the door. The window that looks out to the hallway. The bed that waits for me to make it, * properly *. The bed that becomes our nest.

I miss curling up on right side, facing the wall, with him behind me, arms around me, surrounding me and whispering me to sleep with my face against the ultra soft body pillow and my legs curled around it, as well. I miss waking up in that nest, early, to the sound of his landlord, Bill, leaving for work in his noisy truck and knowing that I don’t have to get up. I can stay surrounded and go back to sleep. I know that I’m safe. And loved. And protected. I miss reaching for Don’s arms and pulling him closer to me until I’m nestled once again and I can fall safely back to sleep.

It’s easier for him to come here, especially given the single mom status. I have to find a baby sitter, get to Ottawa, get to the airport…He just has to jump in his car after work and head out. It’s easier for him. I know that. And I love having him in my home. I do.

But for some reason…and maybe it’s because it’s been awhile since I flew out to see him or maybe it’s because I’m in need of a break from the little beasties or maybe it’s because I haven’t seen the inside of a Target OR a Friendly’s in way, way, way too long…tonight, I miss Massachusetts.

The crazy as fuck drivers. The rotaries. Okay, I don’t actually miss those because they still scare me. And I don’t miss the drivers, either, because they scare me, too. I have a tendency to close my eyes a lot while we’re driving somewhere so that I don’t actually have to witness my own death.

But I do miss driving along the ocean, with the windows rolled all the way down, tummies full of ice cream, looking at the houses that are worth more than we could ever imagine and commenting to one another that we really hope the people who live in those houses appreciate how stunning they are but that we doubt that they do.

I do miss the American grocery stores but not just because of the wider variety of foods. I miss Don steering that cart around like he means business and narrowly missing not only displays and stacks of things but other shoppers, too. I miss kissing in him in the canned foods aisle. I miss rubbing his back while we pick out ice cream (okay, I do miss the selection, though…you Americans don’t know how good you’ve got it!). I miss his crankiness when I make him buy things that will need to be carried up the stairs by moi. I miss the friendly staff. I miss the cigarettes on display. And I miss the requisite buying of a lottery ticket because you just never know. Those quarters from the parking lot attendant really could have been magical.

I miss seeing American flags. It always, always, always takes me a day or two before I remember that I’m actually in another country. And it’s always the flags that do it. I’ll think, “wow, that’s bold” a few times before I’ll remember that I’m not in Canada.

I miss the bumpy roads in Don’s neck of the woods.

I miss his landlord’s kids.

I miss Don’s pride when he takes me someplace special to him. I miss his renewed appreciation for something he’s used to but that gives me an exciting feeling (like… you guessed it…TARGET!). I miss his stories about the places and the people he remembers from there.

Tonight I’m missing the U S of A.

I miss the airport in New Hampshire. It’s small and accessible and I know it now like the back of hand because of the time I almost lived there. I miss that escalator I’m fond of blogging (and talking) about. I miss coming down it to the waiting area and seeing Don and feeling my heart jump up into my throat. But before that even happens, I miss descending in the baby plane and looking at the houses and the trees and knowing that I’m * this * close to arriving. I miss the plane landing and knowing I’m that much closer. I miss walking across the parking lot (and my memory right now is showing me sunshine) and being greeted by the woman holding the door open and knowing it’s only minutes now, only minutes.

I miss the walk through the airport to the parking lot to the car. I miss the kissing against the car, taking forever to get in.

I am missing it all.

Tomorrow is election day for all of you. And I sincerely hope that whatever the outcome, things start looking up and getting better. For what it’s worth, I think you guys got some things right.

And tonight…I miss you.